Football

Actual text message from yesterday, "I think our football aspirations for this season are going to come to fruition in basketball. All our injured star players should be back."

My Response: Fuck that. Carpe Diem. I am planning no future happiness on any Ole Miss team. I will cheer for them on game day. The end :)"

What a freaking disappointment. I am hurt by this season. Ironically, we still have a winning record and that is no small feat considering our record under Coach O the last year. There was more promise and excitement in being a Rebel before this season began. It honestly breaks my heart to watch us now. The defense is playing so hard. I want the win for the win. I want it for the team and dammit I really want it for the D. I made the mistake of watching Ole Miss football with Houston Nutt today. I felt even worse for the defense. We held Alabama to 5 field goals in the red zone. 78 damn plays and they got 22 points.

God grant me an offensive line
to accept those shitty losses
courage to realize we can still go to a bowl
and wisdom to know LSU will always smell like corndogs.

My very own football serenity prayer.

Anway I am still depressed about this. I will be roadtripping to watch them play Arkansas. Houston, we better not have a problem.

Never go swimming right after eating...

So day 2 turned out to be a scorcher and beautiful. We made it to the beach around 1. Sunscreen was used and the beer was iced, the day was indeed looking promising. I was laying on the beach and chit-chatting until the sun got the best of me and I had to wade in the water to cool off.

Let me also note now that I am not really a fan of the ocean. I prefer pools and rivers. Salt water and jellyfish just never have been up there on my list of favorite things. THE WATER WAS THE NASTIEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN. In fact, as the beer started to take affect, I remember loudly announcing, "This place is nasty and I have no idea why you would choose this mess over Destin." Anyway, it was filled with algae. It felt like nasty hairy men were rubbing on your legs. It was creeping me the hell out, so I quickly became a beached whale again soaking in the sun. Of course I kept having to cool off and get back in the skanky (this word can be used so many times when discussing PCB) water. I would get out and look like I had neon green snot plastered all over me.

The waves were massive. I was in there about 3 minutes before one washed completely over me and got in my eyes and nasal cavity. (I did save the beer in a heroic effort) It hurt and it burned badly. I gave up and went back to the beach for a spinach dip snack and to get the saltwater out of my eyes. Then I moved to my super beach blanket to read and enjoy the sun and as the facebook status read, "baking in the sun one bud light lime at a time." I am enjoying my book and the sound of the waves hitting the shore and not my face when along comes peer pressure. "Come on Ash, we are sitting on the bank. Come talk to us." Of course I give in and the beer consumption truly begins. We were sitting on the beach and suddenly before I know it, we are back in the angry bashing saltwater.

Beers start coming rapidly as Frank goes back to shore for more. Of course, mostly I was using mine to wash the fucking water out of my mouth that the ocean kept putting in there. Lime really takes the edge of the salt. Somehow we start talking about midgets which temporarily distracts me from the waves. I am obsessed with midgets. In fact, Chelsea Handler is my hero because she has her own personal "nugget". Well Kay for some reason ask me if I have ever seen a midget porn. Me, "THEY MAKE MIDGET PORN????" He says not just midget porn, but gay midget porn. I decide immediately I could never watch gay midget porn because it would ruin sex for me for the rest of my life, but I do have some questions. Just basic stuff like, is like a tripod really or tiny and proportional to the rest of them? (or in Shana's words "cocktail wiener or summer sausage") Isn't that like watching kids get it on? Have you ever hooked up with a midget? Was it awkward looking when they were getting the horizontal polka on with an average person? DON'T ACT LIKE YOU ARE READING THIS AND NOT WONDERING WHAT THE ANSWERS WERE (unless of course you have been watching gay midget porn).

So the beer is flowing. Frankster brings another. I decide screw this, lets have a back up. I go right up and get us a double fisting round. I am obsessed with midget porn and take every opportunity I can to scream something about midget porn (oblivious to the fact children are everywhere). I guess had their daddies not been so interested in hearing me yell about midget porn they would have taken them to build sandcastles far far away from the midget obsessed drunk girl. The waves are smashing me. I start to channel Lt. Dan in Forest Gump screaming, "bring it on wave, is that all you have?, fuck you wave." Soon my whole sinus cavity is on fire. Frank has left to get a breather. I feel envious. I want out of this angry water. He comes back with another beer. By this time, the ocean is so bad every time you open beer 2 it foams from being shook around. I finally say fuck it and go back to the land. I have more spinach dip. Frank comes back out. Kay and Shana are awesome wave jumpers and like it out there. I think fun fail. Then comes the famous words, "Fuck it, lets get drunk." Suddenly, we decided we were going to empty that cooler.

There is a bean bag game which we immediately turn into a drinking game. First go Ashley has to chug a whole beer. I am pretty sure 4 beers were gone in round one on just me. I have to pee. We decide to wade in and take them a beer. We barely get them delivered before we are dying to get out. We go back to the game. I have a buzz and decide we need a wildcard rule. So I decide if you get the bag in the 10pt hole you get to make the other person do what you want. (there are 2 senior citizen couples observing this along with a middle aged jealous dude with a lame wife) I of course hit the wildcard first. I make Frank sing I am a Little Teapot with the moves. I continue chugging. I have to do a solo hotty toddy on a wild card. I drink and drink. Shana and Kay surface and sit down. I have to chug a whole beer. I immediately know this is about to get ugly. Throw up is on the way.

I weigh my options. I start to go for the hotel. I realize 3 steps in I will never make it. I turn around and head toward the water. I think I will at least make it deep enough. I am barely up to my knees, when my head convulses and it happens. I duck down and let it go. I continue walking and it happens again. I am still trying to get deeper in the water in an effort not to draw attention to myself. This happens 4 times and I feel so good. Maybe everyone just thought they were swimming in algae and not spinach. I go back up and plop down and announce I just had a first and puked in the ocean. Everyone laughs. I open another beer. Shana has since taken my place. Frank hits a wild card. I suggest she sing Jesus Loves Me. She does. The old people are amused. I help her remember all the words. She launches into church camp tunes. It is awesome. She is drunk and singing about Jesus.

We decide to head to the pool at the condo. I immediately have the radio turned on the Michael Jackson Sirius channel at the pool. I am having drunk conversation that I can't even remember with what I will describe as Southern Baptist types who probably left and went to pray for me. I am sunburned and have the green shit in my hair. They were yelling that I had alien cum in my hair. This made me squeal for it to be removed ASAP. Before I know it, there is almost as much algae swimming around me as there was in that ocean. They go back upstairs and make the rest of the banana daiquris. I announce that I can only have beer. The cooler was refilled too (obviously empty after that game). We keep drinking. I insist on climbing into the fountain in the pool for a photo shoot before leaving. Strangers are amused. I am doing a zen pose in the fountain and sitting cross legged. I suggest they try it.

We go upstairs and shower. I am going to just skip to the cabdriver now. We see him coming down the street. We are tired, buzzed and ready to go and decided to get in the middle of the street so he didn't have to turn in and then fight traffic to go the opposite direction. I am pretty sure this dude smoked himself stupid on a shitload of marjiuana as a young man. He is freaking the hell out and saying the cops are going to get him for that because it is illegal. I am like, "dude we are in the car, no blue lights, take us to Pineapple Willies." Then I start running project distraction. The following is the Q and A session.

-Have you ever seen any gay midget porn? no

-Have you ever seen any midget porn? no

-Have you ever seen a naked midget? no

-Would you like to? no

-Do you ever watch Skinemax? what is that (i explain "plot filled" after dark Cinemax)

He is confused and maybe amused. I let him know the waves sucked and had my hair filled with alien spunk. He doesn't know what spunk is. I explain I don't like the word cum. I tell him I puked in the ocean and I blame those salty waves. He says it is good for surfers. I announce that nobody comes here to surf and since he lives here he should know this. The ride continues with more assorted conversation and finally we get there. He wants to know if my hair is really red. I don't answer and let the rest of the car. We get out. I tell him my name is Frank and insist on taking my picture with him.

Nothing exciting happens at the restaurant. We eat and I win some trivia. I lost some too. (Just wanted to announce the win thing first) We all realize we are dead tired and call the cabbie. He picks us up. I turn my attention to Asian porn this time. He hasn't seen any of that either. Frank is passed out. Shana and I start telling him Frank stared in Asian porn and was so big it about killed the actresses. This was a fun game, but he was so stupid it almost wasn't fun. We get home and go to bed with working electricity. I would declare the weekend a success and I miss those kids even more now.

Can I please get some tin foil???

Well first let me discuss the sober things that bothered me on this day. I spend A LOT of time in the car driving and I hate inconsiderate people on the road. I concluded that if you have to sit on top of the steering wheel and have to have two hands clenched to the wheel, you should INDEED get your ass out of the left lane. I also concluded that you should not be allowed to drive even in the right lane if you are going to drive 10 miles or less under the speed limit. (I damn near plowed into this old Q-Tip for that. Granted I was playing with my iPod and traveling 10+ above the speed limit, but still...) Also, if the bed of your truck is filled with SHIT, it should be in garbage bags. I damn near ran over 2 bird gourds and assorted pieces of trash because some guy in a Ford Ranger puffing away on some Winstons was littering all down I-10. Strap it down or get on 90 buddy. Swerving is dangerous.

Now on to the fun shit. I finally arrived into town after having to work in the hot sun all day. I was parched and reuniting with some of my favs from Mississippi in the PCB. While the condo was gorgeous, that place is super skanky. Seriously, there are more belly button rings still running around there than anywhere I know. Girls have their nails painted in the tackiest of fashion and they dye their hair using Pepe Le Pew as a guide. That said, let's drink.

We go ahead and pre-party with banana daiquiris. (If you haven't bought the banana puree and some coconut rum, you need to) I get everyone addicted, including my friends this weekend. I don't even like frozen drinks. Then we head over to Sharky's. It is KaraNOke night. Oh yay!!! There were lots of families out there. We had a terrible waitress (by terrible I mean I had a tab with her and one at the bar in order to keep myself hydrated). She kept calling my babygirl everytime I asked for something. I CANT FUCKING STAND TERMS OF ENDEARMENT. I don't even like hot boys calling me sweetie, so that was really getting on my nerves. I knew immediately I would get her back for this at some point. Let the Q and A begin.

I order some quesadillas. I order more beer. We start to order chocolate cake shots (Also very delicious and easy to drink). Some little girls start singing this "cheater cheater where did you meet her that low down white trash ho" song. I start screaming does your mother know you are on stage singing about hoes? I google the lyrics and find someone named Rory and Joey sing it. I think I will download it. I order more beer. I realize I need a to go box. The waitress is nowhere to be seen. So in all that extra time I realize a box won't work because it won't fit in my purse for the rest of the bar hopping. What to do....

My friend Kay has a mohawk. A blue mohawk. I do a photo shoot with it. (me sticking my tongue out, flipping it off, caressing it, etc) I will post the pictures when I get back to Tallahassee. Earlier in the evening I suggested he decorate it in themes. I told him he could hide Easter eggs in it and randomly ask people if they want to go on a hunt. Maybe they would like to play touch football in the astroturf. Really the mohawk and the things I could do with it kept me very entertained. As I am sitting there brainstorming for the mohawk, I realize I should ask for aluminum foil because it will fit in my purse. I am playing the scene out, "SCUSE ME!! Can I get some aluminum foil for my Quesadillas?" and it hits. I should ask for tin foil. She already thinks I am stupid anyway. I might as well let her think I am a redneck too. (earlier we had the idea we were going to get t-shirts airbrushed and do a photo shoot on the beach and I had asked if she could be our photographer. Asked if she had some hot rollers we could borrow, asked any dipshit thing I could think of. *note-sadly drinking got in the way and this plan did not pan out)

Shana says she is going to sign me up for the "I survived a Japanese game show" (I am not familiar) I am good and buzzed. I announce I will dominate them! I will drop an atomic bomb. Everyone is laughing their ass off and can't believe I said this. Everyone in the bar probably hears me, which is funny considering we are outdoors. They start calling me A-bomb at this point. I giggle more. I get a beer. We get chocolate cake shots. I ask the lesbians at the bar to take a picture of us and our shots. I engage them in conversation for a minute and go back to my party. I am working on another beer. I also decide to confiscate all the saltine crackers off the table and put them in my purse with visions of handing them out to drunk people dancing in my head or eating them myself. Of course, I made sure to proclaim myself as Premium and take a picture with the Premium cracker before dropping them all in the purse. I am still worried about this tin foil situation. Amanda, the shitastic waitress is still nowhere to be seen.

I look up and see the lesbians macking on each other. I point and say, "look they are making a double egg omelet." By far one of the dumbest things I have ever said drunk. I cried it was so funny though. And for those of you living in a closet, it was 2 chicks with eggs and no sperm= double egg omelet for drunk Ashley. Tears really welled out of my eyes on this.

There is some old lady at the bar in a shiny silver shirt, short shorts (too short shorts in fact), and some little silver pointy shoes. She also has a head full of blonde hair and 65 years worth of tanning bed inflicted wrinkles. I begin to call her Debbie Reynolds Wrap because I am bored and want tin foil. I make it a point to get a picture of her face. As luck would have it, the wind blows a receipt over and she comes over to pick it up. Meanwhile, I am shamelessly snapping a photo. And then Kay becomes my hero. He strikes up a conversation. "Didn't we see you at the pool? You have to take a picture with me." JACKPOT!! Lord, Debbie Reynolds Wrap was a hott mess. (This photo will definitely be uploaded) She did have a diamond mine on her hand though, so it is possible she is not that ditzy and just doped up on some prescription drugs.

Finally Amanda shows back up. Ever so serious, I look at her and say I need you to help me. I need some TIN FOIL. Really emphasizing the tin. I don't laugh (by some miracle) She is like, "you need a box?" No, I need foil. A box is not gonna fit in my purse and I plan on getting drunk and needing to eat this at the next bar, so I need some tin foil. She vows to find me some. We drink more and more and more. Now I want to leave. I still have no foil. Amanda cruises through. "AMANDA, I was serious about that tin foil." She claims they are looking for it.

Seven minutes later Amanda appear with my shiny tin foil. I make her pose with it for a picture. Shana then has the best idea ever and thinks my tin foil should be folded into a bull like they do at Longhorn. We fold it into a bull. Then we have group shots (Amanda included) with the bull. In fact, I demanded she kiss the bull horn, but be careful not to get any slobber on it in one picture. We move onto the next bar. Kay decided to leave us. I made sure I did a photo shoot with the shark outside before leaving.

Sadly, we were all pretty much drunk by then and this bar wound up being lame for many reasons. More KaraNOke and it was a locals' joint. They are rude and the bartender was a bitch, wouldn't wait on us worth a shit cause she was too busy with the local pervs that gave her $3 and told her she was cute (WHICH WAS A LIE! Granted I like males, but I will admit if a girl is hot. She was quiet the opposite). And it was smokey. I don't know why anyone is still allowing smoking in a bar. There was the fucking trashiest looking Elvis impersonator ever there. Sadly, I did not take his picture, but I did get one of me pretending to grab his ass when he didn't know it. I asked him to sing Kentucky Rain 10 times. The douche bag didn't. We split. Called a cab to take us .5 miles. We did unwrap my shiny tin foil bull and have a Quesadilla snack while waiting. The cab driver tells us there has been a power outage. We don't pay attention. She charges us $10 for .5 miles. She doesn't get a tip because 1)that is ridiculous inflation 2)she was not funny.

We are barely in the door when the fucking power goes out. I prop open the door and let the hall light in. We look out the window and all down HWY 98 is blacked out. Some drunk mother fucker hit a power pole. It is 90 degrees outside. I am drunk and sleepy. I attempt to update my facebook status before going to bed.

This is the result:

Ashley Hollis does not appreciate that the power went OUT in panama city and is gonna continue tobeout beacuse some dr"

I prematurely submitted that one. I am too apathetic to care. Right. I go to sleep. I wake up still drunk the next morning. I cook breakfast for everyone. We eat. We go back to bed for three hours. We wake up and eat the rest of breakfast. Now the beach tale can officially begin on the next entry. I have to go to bed now.

Last Night

Well I had my hair color vibrantly restored yesterday. I think it upped my sassiness level too. The night started at Bonefish. One bottle of wine and shit started being fun. There was some IBM help desk guy sitting by me (not really). He had a Southern accent. I can honestly say, I have never met someone of India Indian descent that talked with a twang. It was like eating hot ice cream (aka very unnatural and unsettling for my mind). There were 3 of them and they kept butting in my conversation. They were lame-o lawyers and I could have eaten them for lunch with my wit. I am guessing they weren't money making criminal defense kind nor would I need them for a future divorce because they weren't that ambitious. I would be left with nothing but the kids and no money if they were on my side. Well actually, now that I think about it they worked for some government office. Yeah, now you are agreeing with the lame-o thing.

Side note-ghandi didn't eat tuna because he was allergic to shellfish.

So, I pissed the black female in the group off by saying I hate Shaq. (he was on EPSN being traded for the 10th time. Seriously, someone should trade him to a nursing home) I think she really thought I was racist. So then I had to explain that the hatred stemmed from the fact I had never seen him and I went to see the Suns and Magic play while I was in Arizona specifically to see him. He didn't play because his grandmother had died. Well then they thought I was racist and heartless. Seriously, his grandmother died like 2 weeks before that. Normal people don't get that long off. Why should Shaq? Well I don't even know how I ended that conversation, but I did and I left. On to the next bar/big thing.

Once arriving, we proceeded to order another bottle of wine. I asked some jackass if I could sit by them because I couldn't very well carry a bottle of wine around. He proceeds to say (and I quote), "I don't know, can you?" I roll my eyes and say yes and sit my happy ass down while announcing that I apologize I didn't know we were playing a game of "mother may I". Fuckers.

Well as it happens this fellow is named Demar (like the ocean?). He is the 4th one named Demar in his family. He is white and from NC. (I think him and the IBM telemarketer/lawyer from Bonefish must have been switched at birth. Demar is much more Hindu sounding) He thinks I am funny. I think his name is Demar? WTF? Yeah I stayed stuck on the name. He is getting a phd in opera. Even weirder. We laugh and chat. I secretly wonder if he has a cat. He acts like he likes girls, but I am sure he much more into the soap on a rope prison type fantasies. I don't even remember that other dudes name, but he had some jacked up hair and I apologize for not getting a picture. If I knew his name I would locate him on facebook so you could see. It was a wreck.

Well Demar made the mistake of engaging me in sports talk. He proclaimed the ACCs superiority to other conferences. FAIL!!!!!!! Demar became Dimwit. The SEC is God fucker. He is still arguing, so I say "who won the CWS?" answer SEC "who won the national football title? answer SEC! Then Dimwit butts in and says who won the soccer title. My response, we only allow females to play soccer to give them something to do. We don't even recognize it as man sport in the SEC. We are Americans and do not give a shit about that game. We continue to fight. I continue to call the ACC lame outside of their basketball dominance (but I also reminded him Michigan took that this year which is pathetic for the ACC too). I finally can take no more of his ignorance so I have to get up and relocate to the other side of the table to talk to other people.

Well this too quickly goes South. I was sassing last night I tell you. They have overheard most of my ACC bashing and SEC bragging and ask where I went to school. So I say Ole Miss. They like fucking LSU. I hate LSU. Corndogs. Then he proceeds to talk shit about Mississippi. This for some reason launched me into a (I am on the 3rd bottle of wine now) history rant. WTF? I know, not me. I tell him how great Natchez is after he bashed it. (truthfully I wouldn't live there lol) I am lecturing him on antebellum homes in great detail. Ex. "Did you not visit Longwood? It is tragically majestic. Seeing the inside of this beautiful, massive, unfinished house just breaks your heart. I am quoting off other names of homes (I don't even know how or why I know this shit. I could have been making it up)" And then I also let him know he obviously did not go to Fat Mamas and have tamales and margaritas because that alone made that town worthy. Then I move on to Vicksburg and the delta and the blues. I am announcing all kinds of random shit like the fact that MS is the number one exporter of catfish in the world. I should have probably also let him know Major Dad was from there. I hate when I leave out good stuff.

Then I finally get over this. Turns out he is from Wakulla Springs. Me (being a well mannered girl..haha) responds, "I was just reading about the springs and really want to go there." He announces it is a dump and this launches me into another rant about how wonderful it is (I HAVE NEVER BEEN THERE AND I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS EXCEPT WHAT GOOGLE PROVIDED) I tell him he is wrong the oldest prehistoric mammal is there and can be seen on a clear day and I really hope they get the money to restore those old boats from Tampa (he doesn't even know what I am talking about and really neither do I, but I don't stop). And it is so sad that they closed the Cherokee sinkhole. Everyone at the table turns on me. I had to jump ship and go back to my original chair.

Dimwit has since been taken home by Jim Carrey's Mask character inspired hair. Maybe his name was Andrew. I think I will just keep referring to him as hair for the point of the story. He is macking on my friend Nicole. I am bored and Whataburger is across the street. So I start using my phone as a communication device. I type "Are we getting out of here" and hand her my phone. I guess it would have made too much sense to just text her. She nods yes. I type "Is he coming with us" she nods no. (THANK GOD) I don't like being around ugly people with crazy hair. I type "follow my lead" I walk to the bar and get togo cups and we waltzed right out of the bar with out wine. (I love breaking rules)

I am in Whataburger and drunk. I order. I get a sprite. I am talking shit with the people in there and lecturing them on Karma when my mother fucking styrofoam cup breaks and I dump Sprite (thankfully a clear liquid) all over my beautiful shiny skirt. I don't know how or why I was talking to those jackasses. I act like it doesn't happen while they laugh at my karma out loud. I tell the lady at the counter they need better cups and there has been a malfunction and I need a new one stat. I get diet coke this time. I demand ketchup. I love their car friendly ketchup. We continue to drink our wine and eat french fries. I document this with my phone. We drive home. Fear not, the fun does not end here.

We stop in a store (that was so not on the way home) and buy cigarettes. Bad plan. I don't even smoke. And I also pick up some white cheddar popcorn and jalapeno Cheetos (all of which I discovered this morning) We get back to my house and we change and open bottle 4 and head to the pool at 3ish? I proceed to give my whole life history. I don't know how I had this much energy. Finally it is cold. We break a wine glass. I toss it in the trash. (FYI I am down to 2 wine glasses and my birthday is nearing if anyone needs an idea. I do not like stemless ones) and then I pass out and sleep like a champ while the tv rambles on with Michael Jackson videos. Thursday truly lived up to its full potential.

Celebrity death

Yesterday God cashed a Publisher's Clearinghouse check, stole Charlie's Angel, and now he is doing the thriller. I am sure they are passing around some Dom Perignon up there.

I would write more, but MTV is actually playing videos so I have to get back to that. It is sad when it takes Michael Jackson dying for Music TeleVision to play music videos. What kind of world are we living in?